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motherhood & healing

So we’re approaching Brantley’s “two weeks on the outside” day (Thursday), and I wanted to jot down some additional thoughts I’ve had about him and my labor/delivery.

While I was pregnant with him my labor fear was pretty high. I kind of have not fun pregnancies (let’s be real, I was still puking with this kid at like 36 weeks). So on top of just general pregnancy fatigue, the way I felt most often while I was carrying him could be summed up in one word: depleted.

I couldn’t get enough rest, command myself to find enough energy, nourish myself in a satisfying way (hungry or sick all the live long day). Also: 2 and 4 year old in my care.

I try intently to keep a positive tone while pregnant, because the more pregnancies I have- the more people I know who aren’t able to carry life or lose their babies. I never want to be someone who takes this for granted. So, while it is taxing, I try to not bug anyone with the hard moments when asked how I’m feeling and just focus on what’s going well. All of that to say, as I was nearing the due date- I felt like I didn’t have the energy to go through birthing a baby, especially given the way my previous birth went.

When I had Timothy, I was very focused on having him naturally. My decision to do this was for a few reasons but I really wanted to have a different experience than I did with Brooklyn (which by the way you aren’t owed a reason but many people feel inclined to a reason). I was met with a good deal of support, and a few negative comments about how that was dumb to try that/you don’t get a medal for not using drugs/why would you put yourself through that, etc.

So, whenever I shared about Timothy’s birth, I shared about how I was so happy to accomplish my goal, but I never really gave myself permission to say: it was really traumatic.

If you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time you probably know I dealt with post partum depression after I had Timothy, and I think a large part of that was due to a false pressure I put on myself to convince everyone his birth was a fairy tale.

It was, without a doubt, empowering and beautiful but it also left me somewhat traumatized as everything happened so fast and I felt like I needed to be silent about the mental battle in that delivery room and the weeks that followed lest the naysayers throw an “I told you so” in my face. I am so confident still in my decision to follow a natural birthing plan, but I’m no longer afraid to talk about the shadows that may lurk in one of the brightest moments in my life.

So as I neared Brantley’s arrival, I was really nervous to maybe plunge into a mental abyss again, and so I prayed, a lot. And I allowed myself permission to reconcile my thoughts about Timothy’s birth- I was okay with our story and not meeting anyone else’s ideal/version of sanity (because yeah: “you’re totally insane” has been said to me more than once about the whole no epidural thing). I let myself process.

So a few days before Brantley was born I came to peace with embracing whatever was coming and not bringing my past birthing experiences into it, and letting it be whatever it would be- on its own.

So when I had Brantley, I went into it allowing myself to totally absorb all of it, instead of just trying to have a “good natural birthing experience”.

It healed a part of me I didn’t know needed healing.
His birth was so many things. Intense. Fast. Furious. Beautiful. Challenging. Healing.

The way my children have come into my life has deeply and uniquely shaped each of our relationships.

Brooklyn was my surprise, I loved her in an overwhelmingly protective way. She came into my life without any “trying” on my part, and that made me grow up in responsibility and protectiveness very fast. If I could not have given her consideration to be made, I dang sure was going to give her everything I could as soon as I learned I was carrying her. I hadn’t prepared to be a mom to her, but she has shaped so much of how I handle and experience motherhood. I will fully embrace whatever unexpected things come and I have seen the goodness in doing just that through her precious life.

Timothy I had to fight for. I had to explore fertility options for him. I fought for a different birthing experience. I fought to love him, really. When depression took over after he was born I had to make myself bond with him, it didn’t come naturally. Holding him in the late night hours as I was balling my eyes out. Reminding him I love him even though I couldn’t fully feel it. Trying to be attuned to his needs even when depression told me not to care about anything. That fight led to an incredible bond. Everyone knows he is my side kick. He is always in my arms (when they are free). I love him fiercely and will fight for him, always.

Brantley so far has been my refreshment. His life has made me revisit why I love being a mom. Made me appreciate the little things, the tiny moments of joy that set flames to keep you warm on the darker days. I went through such a shadowy season before he arrived. Carrying and delivering and loving him has been life-giving to parts of me that just a few months and years ago felt very dead. His tiny life has brightened my days and I love him dearly.

I may not have been seeking the title Mom when it found me, but I feel incredibly honored to hold that title. So thankful for these three unique blessings in my life.